


the cutting room floor

by sweetwatersong



Series: the attic [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fic amnesty, Multi, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5595328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetwatersong/pseuds/sweetwatersong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parts and pieces of stories that were never finished.</p><p>Chapter 2: <i>firebird's suite</i></p><p>“There is a lie they tell,” Natasha says almost indistinctly. “That to be a phoenix, you must be reborn.”</p><p>“What’s the truth?” Clint asks after a moment, watching her, and she does not answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. at stake

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly posted for my own sake so I can file these away as done (instead of endless WIPs), but if you're interested, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha & team, targets and legalities and the realities of being a superhero.

Natasha stared at the bubbling mass of liquid with disgust, its bitter fumes caught in her throat despite the hand she held over her mouth.

“Please tell me someone has this man in custody already.”

“What is it?” Rogers demanded on the other end of the line, the sound of his shield hitting bodies audible over the link.

“A terrible idea, even by our new mad scientist standards,” she replied, noting the way it was corroding the concrete floor. “Rogers, if this gets out into the streets, we’re in trouble.”

“We aren’t already?” Clint asked over the comms. Natasha ignored him to stare at the popping bubbles with narrowed eyes. The rate at which they were appear seemed to be…

“There’s more of this coming.”

“You know, next time I vote we let the cops handle fucking amateur hour,” her partner groused as Natasha judged the volume of the basement, mindful of how the fumes were beginning to sting. The seed off the acid's production was increasing. At this rate the pool would double in size in the next five minutes or so, and she could see nothing obvious enough to hold it back. Whatever safety precautions Mister Ka-BOOM had put in place before taking his lab-coated underlings onto the street – if he had any at all – were long gone.

“I can’t tell where it’s coming from, but it looks like it will overflow into the office area in twenty. I don’t have any good containment options.” Especially now that it was eating through the metal it encountered while it lapped closer to her feet.

“Tried setting it on fire yet?”

“No,” Steve and Tony responded in unison.

“Without knowing what it’s made up of, she could end up bringing the building down or turning it into a million pieces of bad office equipment and tax forms,” Tony continued. “If you have other plans, Hawkeye, you should really fill me in on them, but ‘cause a massive fireball in lower Manhattan’ isn’t on my to-do list today.”

She paused, considering, as Clint shot back, “That’s kinda funny, seeing as that usually happens when you’re involved.”

“Maybe he’s right,” Natasha cut in, her throat beginning to ache. The folding mask she slipped out of a gear pocket cut off the worst of the fumes even as she backed away. “Bringing the building down may be enough to slow it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Captain, I don’t have any other grand ideas, and this-“ she checked over her shoulder, “-is definitely getting out of control. Stark, I’m going to set timers on the major support beams on the north half of the building as I exit. Someone will need to get the south side.”

“Since you asked so nicely, I’d be happy to help.”

She fished out a charge and plastered it on the wall. “Countdown starting at forty-five seconds. Mark.”

-

The next day they were finishing lunch, laughing and ribbing each other as they cleaned off the table. The mood in the Tower was always lighter after a good mission, which was defined by two things: no one had died (with Clint’s habit of getting hurt, ‘no one was injured’ was virtually impossible to qualify for) and the bad guys had been handed over to the justice system. There had been some creative re-writing of laws in recent years to allow ‘fucking amateurs’ and even supervillains to be prosecuted by rules originally laid down for ordinary people, who were incapable of summoning outer-dimensional monsters or plotting to actually rule the world. Judges had gotten very good at interpreting ‘damage to property’ or ‘premeditated murder’ to cover some of the stunts that had been pulled before the Avengers had been able to step in.

“Sir, there are five police officers downstairs,” JARVIS informed the room as Natasha smothered a laugh, lungs and vocal cords all protesting. Bruce and SHIELD Medical had recommended rest as the only cure for the damage that had been done by the fumes. With as minor as the damage had been, she hadn’t minded. Now everyone fell quiet, exchanging glances.

“Maybe they’ve finally decided that stopping by and giving us a “Thank you," would be appreciated. I don’t know about everyone else, but I’ve been feeling distinctly underappreciated lately. They don’t even bother sending flowers or a card.” Tony set down the stack of dirty plates and moved to a screen set into the wall, quick hands pulling up the security feed from the lobby. A detective and four uniformed police officers were indeed waiting there, and six patrol cars idled outside. 

“Have they said anything about why they were here?” Steve asked JARVIS, studying the feed. 

“They have not. They have, however, requested the presence of Ms. Romanoff.” 

With that simple sentence a new tension hummed through the room, effectively killing the celebratory air.

Natasha rose from her chair gracefully, feeling the concerned weight of Thor’s eyes on her like a heavy, comforting hand.

“Natasha?”

The spy looked away from the screen to meet Steve’s gaze, reading the question he was asking with the ease of practice and long familiarity.

“I wouldn’t mind a little company,” she told him in response. As simple as that Steve and Tony took point in silence, exchanging looks as they turned towards the elevator. Clint slid in to flank her on her left, as close and familiar as her own shadow, and Bruce rose from his seat to cover her other side. Natasha hesitated for a moment at that, tipping her head to catch his attention.

“Sure you want to come, Doc?” She asked softly. He looked back at her through his glasses, his smile thin and faintly humored.

“I think they’ll be less likely to try anything with – us – there.”

Natasha smiled back at him, warmth in her eyes, and neither of them mentioned that if the police were going to try anything with the Avengers all there, the Hulk would indeed be chief among their worries. With that answer she began to move again, Thor anchoring the group behind her. When they stepped into the elevator Natasha couldn't help but think that for all the ill her past contained, for all the things that she regretted, she was glad she had come here. She was glad she had met and befriended these people.

After a lifetime of being alone, she didn’t need to face the world on her own anymore.

“JARVIS, I want recordings of everything,” Tony said as the elevator descended. “Audio, video, backed up to every server NYPD knows about and then some. If this goes the way I think it will, I want to be able to say that we didn’t throw the first punch.”

“Of course, sir,” the AI answered immediately. Steve, although he glanced sideways at Tony, objected to neither the order or the response. That was a good sign that they were going to get in trouble, Natasha thought with amusement. When Captain America was ready to fight with the law, things had to be serious. Then again, he was always ready to fight anything.

Clint had been punching the speed dial on his cell while they talked and now held it far enough away from his ear that they all could hear the dial tone.

“We might have an issue with NYPD,” he said as soon as the ringing stopped.

“Understood,” Coulson replied evenly. “Will have or already have?”

“They’re here for Natasha.”

There was a beat of silence in the elevator as the words crystallized what everyone already suspected.

“I’ll see what I can find,” the SHIELD agent said after a moment. “Keep me updated.”

The call ended. Natasha and Clint exchanged a glance. No admonishments to play nice, no warnings that they couldn’t fuck this up. Coulson was giving his unofficial approval for them to do what they felt they had to.

-

“This isn’t justice. This is a witch hunt,” Bruce said at last as he looked at them over his glasses. He seemed for all the world at ease except for the set of his mouth and the serious regard in his eyes. That was probably for the best; if any more stress showed they'd be in a Code Green in a hurry.

“But why now?” Tony threw up one hand, his fist creasing the papers it held. “This isn’t the first time we’ve wrecked a building or endangered the public. Even going back just six months there have been a dozen opportunities to nail us. Let’s be honest, when you get down to it, felony charges are practically our job description.”

“Because it’s Natasha.” They all looked to Steve, sitting at the head of the table with numerous files laid out in front of him. He exhaled and linked his hands together. “She’s the most vulnerable one in our group, isn’t she?”

Coulson nodded. “As Captain America, you’re essentially untouchable. Thor isn’t even a citizen of Earth, Stark would have the military on his side, Clint’s a decorated Army veteran himself. And of course, there’s the slight matter of someone trying to hold you in a cell, Banner.”

Bruce topped his head in silent acknowledgment of the memorable events that had first bright them all together.

“You were what?” Tony asked in surprise, glancing at Clint. The archer continued studying the head of an arrow with a grimness that hadn’t faded since Natasha had been arrested. He shrugged slightly, intent on the gleaming point.

“What did you think I did between the circus and SHIELD?”

“But Natasha…” Bruce’s fingers tapped on the arm of his chair.

“…is a naturalized citizen, has a criminal past, and doesn’t have anyone on her side.”

“She has us.” It was an instant response, spoken by Steve but backed automatically by the other men in the room who straightened or looked up. Coulson smiled with worn humor.

“And that’s about all she has, gentlemen.”

“What about SHIELD?” Tony leaned forward over the table, eyes glinting. “Why aren’t they doing anything about this?”

Coulson raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need to spread his hands to point out that he, a member of SHIELD, was there and doing something.

“We can’t throw our weight around on this issue. SHIELD is supposed to stay under the radar. If there’s any hint of an outside influence on the matter, the media will have a field day. If this were a minor charge, like a traffic ticket or a dust-up between the Avengers and the police, we would be able to sway public opinion. But this is as up-front and obvious as it gets. We’re not even going to step forward as her past employers.” He pressed his lips together and put his tablet down on his own spread of papers.

“Asgard could object,” Thor pointed out, gaze dark.

“You can’t do that.” Coulson shook his head. “And for the same reasons as SHIELD. If you use your planet’s position to get Natasha freed, it will be seen as a superhero escaping justice. They’ll say that you think you can’t be held responsible for your actions. That you’re above the law.”

“Fucking should be.” Clint twirled the arrow though his fingers, a promise of pain in his shadowed gaze. Coulson glanced at him and said nothing before he turned back to his work.

“Natasha’s history isn’t enough. There has to be another reason this is happening now. The sooner we find it, the sooner we can come up with a strategy to fight it.”


	2. firebird's suite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha & team, inspired by thoughts of Natasha & phoenixes & lightning.

“There is a lie they tell,” Natasha says almost indistinctly. “That to be a phoenix, you must be reborn.”

“What’s the truth?” Clint asks after a moment, watching her, and she does not answer.

-

The other Avengers think of Thor when they think of storm cells and lightning, when they smell the scent of ozone and hear the crack of the sky parting. They do not know the truth of her. Thor does not either, for all his eons of toiling through the realms, but she catches him watching her sometimes, head tilted and broad face considering.

The difference is this: Thor draws the forces of her world into a storm, calling them to answer to his will. He summons the lightning. She was born of it.

She does not try to hold Thor’s hammer. She does not want to know what will happen if the thunder in his blood meets the lightning in her own.

-

“There’s a lie they tell,” she says as she looks up at the amassed armada of aircraft, their lights winking and dancing and humming with a gritting, throbbing tone that makes her bones ache. “They say that to be a phoenix, you have to be reborn.”

“What’s the truth?” Bruce asks her, looking at her in a face that’s still human and pale despite the indifferent future laid out before them. It can’t be all that bad, she thinks to herself wryly, if even the other monster doesn’t believe they stand a chance.

“You have to be born,” she answers, knowing Clint’s gone still and quiet behind her shoulder, knowing Thor has shifted his own gaze from the battle that lies before them to frown at his scarred palms. Natasha draws her batons out and lets the electricity dance along them even as it begins to gather and bunch over her own skin as well. When the textbooks illustrate phoenix rebirths, they seem split equally between those pictures that imagine a slender shell broken by a cautious beak and those that start again one step later, featherless and feeble but already exposed to the open air. They’re wrong, of course; there is neither a shell nor a hatchling bird that could hold all that a phoenix is.

There are human forms, however, human lives, that can do it just fine.

Blue veins of static crackle over her arms, down her torso and over her thighs in a race to connect to the grounding earth, to draw more ropes of neon light along behind them. Natasha lets the blazing fire go, flickering from her form to spread like a halo, like a storm warning around her, and it’s not so much breaking free as it is coming finally, finally home.

Batons in hand, Avengers emblem on her shoulders, she answers the power that is her birthright and becomes _more_ in the silence of a heartbeat.


End file.
